Recovery and Reconstruction

On Easter Sunday I took a spill in the national forest looking on Northern Sumatra. During the fall my knee cap came all the way off and went around my knee ending up in the back knee pit. I cried out in fear and pain the guides and friends turned me on my back, I said 'put it back' and I fainted. They put things back together and gave me pain meds. Yes, I walked out of the jungle and even in the week and a half before the surgery. It didn't swell terribly bad or really bruise but things were not looking good. The ELCA decided to bring me back to the United States for reconstruction surgery on my right knee. The experience has been not unlike being whisked away by aliens and probed, I imagine. The surgery was intense.

I arrived in Denver on Wednesday April 22 (I don't remember much of the 30 hour plane ride because I think my psyche just blocked it) and went to the doctor April 23. He said basically the same thing the doctor in Medan said (torn MCL, recurrent dislocation) and added the twists cartilage damage, ACL partial tear, and arthritis.

BUT MANY MANY MANY PEOPLE ARE HERE WITH ME HELPING ME IN SPIRIT AND ON PRACTICAL MATTERS. Thanks to you saints who have loved me so much you pray for me, write letters, clean dog poop out of the back yard, bring by food, bring flowers, sit with me, loan movies, clean the house, call me, massage me, Sherpa stuff around, give medication, confront doctors, throw parties, pick me up for coffee, tell me you love me, bring by medical equipment, have me over for dinner, eat the food I prepare, clean up after, complement me and hear my tiny complaints, leaving me alone when needed, give me money, confront insurance folks, keep up on my mail, laugh with me, and generally encourage me. There are things that were done that I don't know about or can't remember. I am sure conversations of concern and decisions I don't know about that have made this experience generally a positive one. I thank everyone I know and everyone who has acted in my best interest.

Went into surgery May 1st and he took part of my hip tendon and made a new MCL and strengthened the ACL. He shaved the cartilage and removed the arthritis. Then for fun he moved a major tendon below the patella and put two screws on my calf to hold it. On my femur he ground a new holding place for the patella. While in surgery he found an 'extra bit' that he decided to have a closer look at- thank God it was a benign cyst called a Baker cyst. Gross.

Anyway, I am not allowed to put any weight on my knee at all until after the go ahead x-rays scheduled June 15th. Then I begin at least 8 weeks of intense rehabilitation. There are still some outstanding visa issues (if/when/where/why the mysterious IMTA). I have so much more empathy for immigrants in our country. I join folks on both sides of the political spectrum in calling for sane reform. In the meantime I am working on writing a curriculum for the school.

Things in a wheelchair and on crutches are NOT awesome. I have more empathy for folks who live their lives without walking than I ever could have imagined. Yesterday Bevin and I went to buy just a few clothes I gave nearly everything away before I left for Indonesia, brought only sweats home with me and needed something for church. Trying on pants, suits, and skirts was exhausting. Having come out of a three weeks on narcotics, my memory is poor. Sometimes, I get confused.

She was a saint of patience and compassion but shopping is not something I enjoy fully able bodied and sharp minded. We both ended up too tired so when we came home collapsed on our beds. I did end up with a well fitting pin stripe three piece suit (jacket, skirt, and pants) to mix and match with tops, a good start. I was reading my secret favorite magazine (Vogue) and saw a similar cut and cloth on a 'top model' in a spread about models and their boy friends. Mild dignity achieved.

Today, marks day three free of pain meds. (Not free of pain- but prayer works.) And tonight I get to talk with Mary Johnson about what the next weeks hold for God's ministry. The whole last month might have been one of the most challenging of my life- the lack of dignity in needing help showering, vomiting, digestion wows, not being able to even dress myself for a week, etc. I am reminded of a story a friend told me:

A women lost most of her foot to diabetes. She was able to get around, but not without difficulty. One day, she looked at my friend and said "I am glad I didn't loose all my foot, because I can still get around and live my life." Compare this with what she might have said: "I am sad/angry/etc that I lost any mobility or part of my foot."

So I am trying to look on the positive side. Things are getting better. I am stronger everyday. Now, thanks to Bevin, I have a super cute suit. I am alive after major surgery. My leg looks great and will heal so I can still dance, hike, ride my bike, walk, and other foolishness I love, someday. And I am home with my friends and family. But the biggest blessing of all, I am still in God's loving embrace.